It’s not atypical for jurors to speak out after high-profile cases– in fact, a feminist-identified juror did just that in a Women’s E-News feature back in June– but something about this excerpt strikes me as odd:

The former cop sprang from his chair and rushed toward me, and before I could step back, the stocky arms of the ex-boxer were curled around my shoulders. To my left, I saw a crowd of faces; to my right, a place setting. One knife, one fork, and one dull spoon wrapped in a white cloth napkin— not much help if he started strangling me. The arms tightened, and then the high-pitched, soft-spoken voice I recognized from the witness stand whispered, “Thank you.”

My chest sank with a long exhale, and a whirlwind of high-powered suits and smiles rose from their glasses of Cabernet. They floated toward me with outstretched hands and watery eyes, the aroma of freshly baked focaccia robiolas mixing with their cologne. One floor below, diners in this Murray Hill Italian restaurant chattered away ignorant of the strange encounter at the top of the back staircase. The man hugging me was supposed to be the monster I had spent seven weeks analyzing and seven days judging. This was Kenneth Moreno, Rape Cop.

How the hell did I get here?

What do you think? Is this par for the course, or blatant opportunism at its worst? Will it have an even further chilling effect on assault survivors coming forward?

Brooklyn, NY

Lori Adelman is Executive Director of Partnerships at Feministing, where she enjoys creating and curating content on gender, race, class, technology, and the media. Lori is also an advocacy and communications professional specializing in sexual and reproductive rights and health, and currently works in the Global Division of Planned Parenthood Federation of America. A graduate of Harvard University, she lives in Brooklyn.

Lori Adelman is an Executive Director of Feministing in charge of Partnerships.

I have a little ritual that I perform whenever I open a new nonfiction book. I go to the index and look up “transgender” “transsexual” and “sex change.” Often I heave a sigh of relief if I don’t find them, but if I do, I flip to the listed pages with newly crossed fingers praying I don’t find something dehumanizing. When I do, I read the passage, then I read it in its full context, then I rebut it in my mind, ring-fence it and walk away like it was a sealed toxic waste site.

But I don’t walk away from the book; I can’t afford to.

Being a minoritized writer or scholar entails little rituals like these. You become quite ...

I have a little ritual that I perform whenever I open a new nonfiction book. I go to the index and look up “transgender” “transsexual” and “sex change.” Often I heave a sigh of relief if I ...

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This weekend, I wrote 3,000 words about this debacle from my perspective as a feminist and fact-checker. About everything Rolling Stone did ...